I hadn't thought to bargain for them because Vlad normally wouldn't need to be bribed to help innocent victims. Yet from his expression, he would do nothing more than bring them to a hospital if I didn't go with him, and that might not be enough. Only vampire blood could guarantee their survival.
I glanced at Mencheres, but the other vampire appeared to be fascinated by the waves lapping against the boat. Really? I thought in disgust.
His oblique shrug was my answer. I'd get no help from him, either. Once more, I found myself cursing the limitations of my humanity. Vlad had me cornered and we both knew it.
"Heal them and make sure they're safe, and I'll come with you," I said, jaw clenched so tight I could barely speak.
His teeth flashed in something too feral to be called a grin. "Wise choice."
Probably not, but unless I wanted to kill those people myself, I didn't have any other option.
I stared down at the boat from the helicopter. We were up high enough that the water was no longer white from the churning rotors. Vlad sat up front with Mencheres, but I was in the back with the humans, trying to convince the crying ones that these vampires wouldn't eat them.
My attempts at comfort were interrupted when an eerie blue light suffused the entire boat. For a few seconds, I couldn't figure out what it was. Then a flash of color yanked my attention over to Vlad. He sat as if completely relaxed, a half smile curling his mouth, but his hands were engulfed in flames.
My gaze flew back to the boat. Now I knew what that blue light was. Fire. Vlad never changed his relaxed position, even when the boat exploded with a spectacular boom! that shook the chopper and littered the lake with flaming debris.
"We can go now," he said to the pilot, a muscular blond vampire Mencheres had addressed as Gorgon.
I closed my mouth with an audible click. Vlad hadn't rigged the boat with explosives. He'd destroyed it with his power, and while I'd seen him burn people to death, I hadn't known the full extent of his abilities. Since he'd just made a forty-foot craft go up like a Roman candle, I suppose I should be flattered that he hadn't laughed when I threatened him earlier. The boat explosion was as devastating as the gas line bomb -
"Shit," I burst out as something occurred to me. "We didn't grab any bones off of those vamps."
I'd also lost Adrian's charred body part. Not that Hannibal would have taken it with us even if I'd asked. Kidnappers were notoriously uncooperative.
"They were hired mercenaries; I doubt their bones would contain anything useful," Vlad stated. He didn't ask me to explain the context behind my thought about Adrian. He must have figured out why Maximus and I had carted around a body part.
"I exploded the boat to hide the evidence of what you did, and to send a message to whoever hired Hannibal that now he'll have to deal with me. Or she," he added reflectively.
He must have read that from my thoughts, too. Then Maximus let out an extended moan, turning my attention to him.
"Why haven't you started to get the silver out?"
Vlad's smile remained but his features hardened.
"It will require extensive cutting. If I do it, then I'm guilty of torturing him. Gorgon is flying the helicopter, and while Mencheres could hold him down, you don't have the experience to remove it properly."
I swallowed. Much as I hated the thought of Maximus continuing to suffer, I didn't want to release Vlad from his word not to torture him. Wait it was, then.
"Where are we going?" Please don't say back to your castle, please don't say back to your castle . . .
"Fine." Glints of emerald appeared in his burnished copper eyes. "I won't say it."
For the second time in ten minutes, the word shit flew out of my mouth. Vlad only chuckled, the sound as enticing and merciless as the man himself.
Mencheres and his wife, Kira, lived near Chicago, which explained how quickly he'd rendezvoused with Vlad. We stopped by his house first, which relieved me for several reasons. For one, several of Mencheres's staff immediately went to work on Maximus. Two, I got to shower and change out of the oversized wetsuit Hannibal had dressed me in. Kira kindly let me borrow one of her outfits, and judging from the grandeur of their home, she'd be in no hurry to get it back.
I was barely done getting dressed when it was time to leave. Gorgon flew Vlad and me to a nearby private airport where Vlad's jet was fueled and waiting. Maximus . . . well, Vlad was keeping his word, but he obviously hadn't forgiven him. I didn't even get a chance to say good-bye, but insisting on that would only make matters worse. I hadn't meant to cause the rift between them, but I was the reason for it nonetheless.
It was only when we boarded Vlad's sleek Learjet that the full weight of my circumstances hit me. For the second time in my life, I was being hustled to Vlad's home because some unknown person was trying to use me or kill me, in whatever order proved most opportune. And Vlad was only protecting me because it was in his best interest. Talk about deja vu.
When he sat down and held out his hand as he had on my first trip to Romania, something inside me snapped.
"No."
His brow rose. "You'd rather take down the plane if you accidentally short-circuit the electrical system? Don't be childish, you know it's this or gloves and we don't have any."
"I don't care."
To my horror, tears sprang to my eyes, but I'd used up all my strength freeing myself and then killing my captors, so I didn't have anything left to fight them.
"In the past month, I've been rejected, blown up, shot at, drugged, and kidnapped, but I'd rather go through all of that again than hold your hand while acting like . . . like everything that happened between us doesn't matter." My voice cracked. "Maybe it doesn't to you, but even being around you hurts and I can't pretend that touching you won't be a thousand times worse."
As I swiped at those treacherous tears, I braced for mockery. Or another coolly practical admonition about how my condition necessitated this action, but Vlad said nothing. He stared at me, his expression slowly changing from cynical detachment to an almost pathological intentness.
"I don't want to touch you, either."
The words hit me like a slap, but before I could respond, he went on.
"No one feels like you do, so every brush of your skin is a cruel reminder of what I've lost. I can barely stand the sight of you because you're more beautiful than I've allowed myself to remember, and when I cut that wire off Maximus and smelled you all over him, I wanted to kill him more than I've wanted to kill anyone in my life, yet I couldn't because of my promise to you."